Y’all remember how I said I’d fallen in love with Barcelona? Well, I have a slight issue. I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with Dublin as well. It was wonderful. We just got back to our home away from home here at House 9 and I’m already ready to go back. Because of the potential length of this post, I’m breaking it into parts!
Part One: In which the author and her comrades realize their mistake.
It’s important to note that when we’d booked our flight to Dublin, we forgot about that little think called military time and booked a flight that left London at 6:30 AM, and as such would need to just stay the night in London. So, we’d just gone through a bit of a panic when we realized that it was Sunday, we were leaving for Dublin in about nine days, and we hadn’t booked a hostel there (remember this, it’s important!) nor had we booked a place to stay the night in London, and we assumed that our flight would leave out of the Stansted Airport. I booked us for the lovely Coach House B&B, about twenty minutes by taxi from the airport. Then we booked Abigail’s Budget Accommodations in Dublin (but more on that later). The night before we left I was in Ashton’s room “doing homework” (Buzzfeed) when Jennie came in looking rather sick to her stomach. She just said “Maggie, we fly out of Lutoni.” This would not be a problem if Luton wasn’t an hour drive from Stansted and if the B&B wasn’t going to charge us full price if we cancelled within 48 hours of booking. So, three phonecalls and one almost panic attack later I’d booked us a taxi to pick us up from Stansted at 3 o’clock AM to get us to Luton by 4 because our gate closed at 6 and RyanAir is a force to be reckoned with when it wants to be.
We had to wait for an off-peak train to Stansted and all needed to do laundry, so we didn’t actually leave for London until a little after 7 o’clock, which would put us into our B&B until after 10 o’clock. We got to the airport and went straight to book a taxi to take us to our B&B and one to pick us back up at 2:20 so that we could be back to the airport in time to meet our other taxi. That was fun to explain yet again, but at least the people weren’t rude about it!
So finally, at 10:48 we make it to the front door of the B&B, ready for a hot shower and a nap when we see that I was wrong, check-in doesn’t close at 11, it closes at 10. Now I had been able to roll with the punches very well up until this point, but I just couldn’t call the number on the door myself. So Elena used Jill’s phone and called the Coach House number on the door and pretended to be me. The man came immediately to the front door and was all smiles. He had such a fun, kind attitude and just laughed a little when we told him why we had requested a check out time of “2 to 3 AM”.
The next morning/three hours later, we make it to the parking lot of the airport when Parker’s face looks sick and he says “I forgot my laptop.” So, I said we’d just tell our next taxi driver that we needed to make a pit stop back at our B&B then head to Luton from there. We had to explain it to the driver three times before he finally understood, which was the first unnerving part of this little trip. The second part was when it seemed like he didn’t know where he was going and I thought we would never make it back to the Coach House (we did), the second was when we took the same roundabout three times (the regular route was closed for construction, and at quite a functional hour, because who in their right mind would be driving from Stansted to Luton at 3 in the morning?), the third when our driver randomly pulled over and turned the car off and then after a moment back on again without any explanation. Because the route we were going to take was closed, we had to take a thirty minute detour. This combined with the laptop fiasco put us behind by a full hour. But one of the blessings of traveling before the sun comes up is that there is no one else doing the same thing. Thankfully our lovely RyanAir flight was smooth.